


Quickie

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Ficlet, M/M, Nipple Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-15 14:28:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13615305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Noctis kills time with Ignis’ body.





	Quickie

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for anon’s “Ignis has VERY sensitive nipples and Noctis loves to pinch, lick and suck on them til poor Iggy is begging for mercy.” prompt on [the FFXV kinkmeme](https://ffxv-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/4398.html?thread=8848686#cmt8848686).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

The car is parked just outside of the outpost, so small that it doesn’t even have a place to pull over without waiting around the corner. Gladiolus and Prompto volunteered for the shopping, Prompto begging to stretch his legs and pleading for ‘the big guy’ to come carry the groceries. Noctis figured he’d hang back and take advantage of the full backseat with a quick nap, while Ignis stayed to guard the car.

Except, for once in Noctis’ life, sleep isn’t coming quite so easily. He crashed so hard last night that Gladiolus had to practically carry him back to the car, and maybe now he’s paying for it. He keeps trying different positions, but nothing works, and it’s worse than usual, because with half the crew gone, there’s nothing to _do_.

Well, there is Ignis. But Noctis knows he doesn’t have time to do _that_. Prompto will probably take his sweet time snapping pictures of the scenic surroundings, and Gladiolus will probably indulge him, but as tired as Noctis often is, he still has great stamina. And Ignis can go exactly as long as Noctis wants him to, never giving in until his prince is satisfied.

Of course, there are other things to do with Ignis, and Noctis sits up to lean over the driver’s seat, one arm bracing itself on Ignis’ shoulder. Ignis glances at him, glasses nearly nudging his cheek. Ignis asks, “What are you doing?”

Noctis answers, “Looking at your tits.”

Ignis’ face twitches ever so slightly, something that never fails to amuse Noctis. He did this one on purpose. As expected, Ignis corrects, “Such crude language is unbecoming of a prince.”

“Sorry. Looking at your _breasts._ ” 

Ignis frowns but lets it slide, and Noctis can feel a victorious grin coming on. It’s decided: he’ll play with Ignis until the others return, and his favourite part of Ignis’ body is first up. He shuffles right to the end of his seat, hooking his chin properly over Ignis’ shoulder, and he reaches both hands around to cup and squeeze Ignis’ pecs. Ignis’ breath hitches, but his hands remain folded on his lap. It’s like silent permission: giving himself over to Noctis’ greedy whims. Noctis has half a mind to purr _good boy_ into his ear.

Instead, Noctis presses his palms in hard, grinding them into Ignis’ chest as he casually notes, “We ran pretty far today... did it chafe?”

Ignis says nothing. Noctis switches to his thumbs, using them to find the quickly-pebbling nubs hidden beneath Ignis’ purple shirt. Noctis toys with them until they’re hard enough to pinch through the fabric, and then he squeezes tight, eliciting a sharp gasp out of Ignis. Noctis hums, “I asked you a question...”

Ignis’ voice is unusually breathy when he admits, “Somewhat.”

Noctis’ voice is low with _want_ as he answers, “Thought so; I know how sensitive your nipples are.” As if to illustrate his point, he tugs them forward, and Ignis is forced to arch away from the seat and into Noctis’ cruel grip. Noctis gives a little twist that makes Ignis _squirm_.

But the more he teases Ignis’ poor nipples, the more mere _touch_ isn’t enough. When Noctis abandons his grip, Ignis releases a shaky sigh. Noctis allows him that moment of reprieve and climbs awkwardly over into the passenger’s seat. It shows how far gone Ignis already is that he doesn’t scold Noctis for getting his boots on the seat. 

Then Noctis is settled in Prompto’s usual seat, and it’s all too easy for him to reach over and pop three of Ignis’ buttons open—still leaving the very top one and a few at the bottom. It’s enough that he can drag the shirt back from Ignis’ pert nipples, flushed and swollen for Noctis’ pleasure. Ignis tries, “Noct—” but Noctis is already leaning over.

He ducks in to swipe his tongue over the nearest one, hand reaching for the other, and Ignis actually cries out as Noctis laves over it. It’s easily the most sensitive part of Ignis’ body, and Noctis is merciless in that knowledge. He gives Ignis a series of quick, kittenish licks that have Ignis lightly trembling, and then he opens his mouth wide around it and gives it a hard suck that leaves Ignis panting. Noctis still doesn’t let up. He pinches Ignis’ right nipple while he ruthlessly suckles the left one, and Ignis moans, “ _Noctis_ ,” so filthily that they might as well be back in Noctis’ own bed, Ignis tied to his headboard with two ropes framing his chest like a wanton sacrifice. Noctis _lives_ for those noises.

He relinquishes his hold on the other nipple so he can press the heel of his hand against the bulging outline of Ignis’ hardened cock. Ignis begs, “ _Please_.” It sounds so desperate that Noctis almost takes pity on him. Almost.

Noctis pulls his mouth free so he can breathe, “Please _what_?” over Ignis’ slicked skin. One of Ignis’ hands flies up to cover his mouth. Noctis gives the abused nipple a few licks, encouraging more of those needy noises. He knows that if he keeps it up, Ignis will be uncomfortable with both his shirt and pants for the remainder of their drive.

He removes the pressure from Ignis’ cock to rub over Ignis’ right nipple again, ready to suck the left one back into his mouth, when he hears familiar laughter on the wind.

Ignis’ trembling body goes rigid. Noctis lifts up, spotting the blond and black blur of Prompto and Gladiolus through the trees. Noctis has the fleeting thought to order Ignis to hit the gas and take them somewhere they can finish, but that would be ridiculous, and he’s not a horny teenager anymore.

He quickly does Ignis’ shirt back up, noting quietly, “Hope those don’t chafe too badly for the rest of the night.”

Ignis dryly replies, “‘The rest of the night’ will be a relatively short time—I intend to pull over at the nearest hotel.”

Noctis shrugs and tells him, “Do what you gotta do,” then mischievously climbs back into his own seat as the rest of the entourage comes in around the corner.


End file.
